Sinful Scars
by FortySeventhLight
Summary: A collection of Scar x Lust related pieces, because SxL gets no love! Fluff, angst, and maybe even some humor within!
1. Foolish Love

A/N: Fear me, FMA fans, for I have been a busy little Telle these last few days and have written some SxL pieces! Yes, SxL needs much love, and they are my favorite couple in the entire FMA series, though I still adore Ed x Winry to boot. So this is the first piece I'm going to show you, short, but interesting, just the same. When I first saw this episode, I had a thought that what if Lust didn't show him any compassion, and only her sinful instincts kicked in? He he, intrigued yet? I hope so! So here's the first installment! Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Me no own FMA! Gosh dern it...

Dedication: To SxL fans! Yes, we love it and we needs more of it! Write my dears, write!

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**Foolish Love**

Foolish man. You hide under that mask you've become so fond of, attempting to conceal what you feel for me underneath. But I can see right through you, my foolish Ishbalan. I see more than what you want to be known, and I smile seductively by this knowledge I have attained. You claim to hate sin and anything pertaining to such, and yet you can't deny what's inside you, so you ignore it. But I see it, my foolish one...

I see what lies behind your darkened eyes, miserable with this aching fear of knowing you must massacre thousands of lives to achieve your goal. That goal can be achieved if we work together. Use the Stone on me, and we will be together as your true heart so desires. Don't be fooled by the masses, foolish one... Love is whatever you want it to be.

This sin, created of your brother's desperation, waits for your reaction. You can have me if you want, but if you choose to fight against me, then you will die by my hand. This sin, born of the forsaken love she once had long ago is before you, asking for your answer. Should your response be nothing more than a glare, I will kill you in cold blood. This sin, which is now yours to claim, pleads for your submission. If you only deny it, then you will bleed to death before you can fall in love again.

My foolish one... give into your sin. Claim me as your blissful iniquity, and I will make your childhood fantasies become a heavenly reality. I won't resist you or run from you, so what are you waiting for, fool? I _am_ here. Take your sin and run with it!

Bitter denial and loathing for what I am burn in your eyes as you turn away, leaving me behind, only to turn your back on your greatest dream. Very well, if that is the way you want it to be, my foolish one.

My claws strike the warmth of your blood, piercing your back as you let out a small moan of pain, a sound that could have been of pleasure had you accepted me. But no, my foolish one - this is the fate you have chosen. You threw away your perfect sin to embrace bittersweet death, as it is agonizing that you die, but so wonderful to feel your blood against my pale skin.

May you die in misery, my foolish one...

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A/N: Okay, so it's a bit on the creepy side, but do you agree that this keeps Lust in character? I think so, personally, and its just fiction, all. This didn't really happen in the anime series, I promise. Trust me, I saw the Japanese first and then the English, so there was nothing altered. lol Not that Funimation truly has the power to do that... Arakawa-sensei would get 'em for that. Okay, enough of my rambling! Please review, my pretties and spread the Scar x Lust love! We need more of it!


	2. Tears

A/N: Wow! First, thanks to all those who reviewed the first piece! I was so thrilled to get them, as each is special to me. Secondly, I'm glad that it was so well received! Dang, I surely thought it wouldn't do well because it was creepy and sadistic, but you shocked me and said you loved it! So thanks again! Lastly, here's the next drabble! It's a sappier one, I must say, but it is cute! I wanted to do an alteration of their last scene together in the series, and I came up with this. I hope you enjoy it!

Dedication: This one's going out to the SxL authors who inspired me! You know who you are, so thank you! Y'all are great!

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**Tears**

"Are you leaving to make the Stone?"

"Yes, then my mission for God will be fulfilled."

Silence filtered around the odd pair, and she looked on at him sadly, that rare emotion she felt banging inside her chest. It was telling her to not let him go. She knew he was going to die, but she felt it would be in vain. All she wanted was... a chance to prove she had the power to love and not just in the physical way.

"You... you can't leave. Not yet."

"Why shouldn't I? If I don't do this, no one will."

"No wait, please..."

Desperation in her tone, she took her place in front of him, eyes gazing down at the floor as he waited impatiently for whatever reason she had to give him. Her breathing was a shuddering, shallow sound, echoing faintly inside his eardrums and taunting his senses. Who would have thought a soulless person could show such hesitancy for the death of a real, flesh and blood man?

"Just give me a chance to prove... that..."

She choked, tears she had never felt before falling onto the ground beneath her, small dark spots marking the earth with her unexpected emotional burst. They felt so cold, but so warm... just like this fierce, pounding in her heart. It stung like a jagged piece of ice through the abdomen, but it was soothing like a warm, gentle flame.

"To prove that I can love you like you loved her..."

"Nothing is stronger than what I felt."

"I... I know that, but I just wanted to tell you..."

She backed away into the street, granting him passage as her arms wrapped themselves around her shaking waist. These emotions were so painful and difficult to tolerate, and he had sneered at them. She should have expected that, but she still had to try. She had to tell him somehow... even if it did break the heart she had recently gained.

"Scarred one..."

He stopped, turning to look at her before passing her in the street. More tears were falling from her pale face, tears he hated, yet longed to see. The woman he had loved had cried just the same when she told his brother and himself that she was about to die. Sweet, yet bitter tears that strangled his heart without remorse.

"These... these tears are for you."

"...I know. I cried once for her, too... for you."

The warmth on her cheek was gone in a moment, but the memory was there. The softness... the guilt and betrayal was evident in their actions. Two changed lives, one by sin, and the other as that same Sin had intertwined in a game of fate that would kill them both in the end, but neither feared this obstacle that had been set before them in the beginning.

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A/N: Awww, the sap! Did you catch the fluffy hint at the end there? I wouldn't be surprised if you missed it, but if anyone can guess it, I'll be tickled! Anyway, thanks again for reading and do leave a review if you liked! Lovies you all!

_47th Light_


	3. Nameless

A/N: Yay! I'm glad this is getting attention, despite so much hate surrounding this couple. I really do appreciate all of you who have taken the time to review and compliment SxL, as it deserves much love. To those who only hate the pair and want it to die, I have two words for you: Screw you. I don't appreciate flames, nor do I find them to be horribly discouraging. It only makes me want to write more, so all your pathetic attempts at getting me to stop are in vain, SxL haters.

A little background on this piece: It's my favorite to date, because it's not only cute, but it's got some humor in it, and it's serious, as well. Like the title implies, it tackles the issue of Scar and Lust technically having no names, at least names that they like. I _do_ choose a name for Lust in this, but I'll tell you why: It's to commemorate my late friend who's already gone to Heaven, so it's not a fangirl thing, I swear. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this piece! Thanks for your time!

Dedication: To those who support SxL, but have not yet been inspired to write it. I hope this encourages you, dear authors!

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**Nameless**

The silence had been going on for some time now, and it was driving her mad. Couldn't he make at least one compliment? Even an insult would suffice, because this silence was bringing her to her wits' end. Quiet was good every now and then, but not constantly! She was beginning to think following him was a mistake, one that would make her die not of a flesh wound, but of boredom. Yet something drove her on, and she knew she had to stay at his side if she wanted answers...

Ha! Answers he wouldn't give her, of course because he was _too_ quiet. No wonder he was a loner. It's interesting how he always allowed small children to tag along beside him and ramble for what seemed like hours, when he, himself had nothing better to say than absolutely nothing.

Of course, she understood why he was so silent. Living the life that he did, taking lives when needed, and sometimes when they weren't. He had a heavy burden to carry, one that she couldn't even handle, despite her perfect physical body that would never tire nor weaken. Sometimes she would just stare at him, as if her eyes were asking the questions, and time after time, she would become fascinated by that scar he bore so defiantly. It was his mark that made him famous... the mark that made him feared... and the mark for which he was named.

Wait a second... the mark for which he was named? Surely he had a much better name to be called by, and so this brought along an excellent chance for decent, not to mention interesting conversation. "Have you ever realized that we don't have names?" she asked, slight hinted humor in her tone.

He looked at her strangely, wondering where she had come up with such an odd topic to discuss, especially in the situation they were in. He was bleeding to death and she had the audacity to be funny? Strange woman, indeed... "I took note of it a long time ago, and haven't thought about it since." he replied grimly.

"It's odd that we don't, isn't it?" she spoke again, her tone growing lighter, and his brow heavier. Where was she going with this? "I forgot my original name, so maybe you can tell me. I'd like to know, because you are most likely the only one alive that knows it."

"Your name, along with my own has been forgotten on purpose. You are a Sin and I am the Sinner." he spoke, almost in a defiant manner. This wasn't a time to be nice, much less amusing. The foolish woman must have found humor in his suffering, thus initiating the akward conversation, and bringing a rare smile to her face.

"So our names are Sin and Sinner? Oh come on, you can do better than that." she teased, her seductive voice starting to return just slightly.

"What?" he hissed, angered that she had said such a thing. Impudent woman!

"I may be a created being, but I deserve a name better than 'Sin'. Be creative, _Scarred man_..."

Now she was starting to annoy him, her company at first a miserable thing to bear, then it blossomed into appreciation, but now he was aggravated... again. He didn't have time for silly things like this. He had a task at hand to complete, and she was standing there, teasing him about being without a name, at least a name that he was proud of. But he had to wonder why... why now had she decided to ask such a thing of him?

"Why?"

"Why should you be creative?" she repeated, her smirk still in place.

"No. Why do you want her name so badly? If you were truly her, you would know it already in your heart... but you don't have that, do you?" His tone was dark, trying to break the light air with its seething sound, but it did not break her smile. "Why are you smiling like that?"

She laughed softly and pushed some of her hair out of her face... that perfect, flawless face. "I want a name, not necessarily hers."

"I am about to die! I don't have time to pick out a name for you!" he yelled angrily, so bitter and vile, but he didn't care. He just wanted her to leave him alone.

"Precisely." she said gently, unphased by his loud tone of voice. She wasn't afraid of him, not even when he possessed that locket from her past. She didn't fear him... it was the other way around. "I want a name, so that when you die, you'll remember me. Is that too much to ask for?"

His hardened, menacing look softened. She wanted to be remembered? It was such a simple, yet bold request to ask of him, and he understood its implications. Perhaps she was more like the woman he loved than he first suspected, having gained memories of not only her past life, but of what she felt. Maybe that was why she stayed with him, to recall more of those memories and to embrace them fully. Had she remembered the time he brought her flowers on her birthday, even though he claimed they were a gift from his elder brother? That memory nearly made him smile, having been reminded of her gleeful expression upon receiving her special present, as flowers were rare in their part of the country.

"Now you're smiling..." she interrupted with another quiet chuckle.

He promptly glared at her for disturbing his pleasant thoughts, but he did remember that she liked to tease him when he was growing up. Harmless teasing, of course, words that were meant to make him laugh, rather than cry. If she could tease him then, then there was definately a part of her in this Sin he had fallen in love with all over again. "I'm not smiling."

"Yes you are."

"No I'm not."

"Yes you are."

"No I'm not!"

The silence fell for just a few seconds this time, barely enough time for either one to gather their thoughts and go about this "disagreement" the logical way. He was the first to speak, and the words he spoke were the sweetest she would ever hear. "Only Lara would tease me like that... so there's more of her in you than you know."

Her smile widened in gratitude and she nodded thankfully. "That's all I wanted to hear. Now all I need to do is drive your name out of you..."

He glared again, not liking that seductive purr in her voice. "Didn't I just point out that I'm about to die?"

She chuckled politely and ran her long nails through his hair, loving the feeling it provided. "Then we'll just have to keep you alive until I get your name, won't we?"

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A/N: I just love how much she teases him in this! It's so cute and fluffy all at the same time! Anywho, if you liked this, leave a review. If you didn't, tell me politely. Flamers will be ignored and laughed at.

_47th Light_


	4. Understanding

A/N: Yippee! Thanks for the reviews, all! It just tickles me to know that there are such lovely SxL fans out there. You guys rock the world of FMA!

All right, so here's the next drabble, and it's fresh off the keyboard! I just got it done, and I am very proud of it! There are some spoilers for episode forty-six, but you guys may be able to sneak by with this one, however I will say this: **read at your own risk!** This is also between Ed and Lust, since they have a lot of interaction in the series, yet I haven't seen any fiction on them, so I put them together to discuss Lust's motives. It turned out quite well in my opinion, so I hope you like this!

Dedication: This one's going out to the SxL author I adore for her fantastic work, Alchemist Experment. Read her stuff, people!

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**Understanding**

"Why are you wanting to help me so suddenly? I was under the impression you hated me." Edward spat after the homunculus in front of him, her long black hair blending in with her dress thanks to the dark midnight sky.

She turned and looked over her shoulder at him, a sad smile on her face. Sad... how could she be sad when she wasn't supposed to have emotions? "I can only truly hate my creator, and since he is already dead, I have no reason to resent you, Full Metal boy." Edward relaxed just slightly, but still didn't quite trust her. Her behavior lately had been questionable, and loyalty was known to be a fake mask she could wear easily. Lust took note of his unchanging expression and went on. "Like I said in the alleyway, I want to become human, and only you can help me do that."

"But why do you want to be a human so badly?" he shouted, still nowhere near on good terms with her. "You homunculi are all the same - you crave something that isn't rightfully yours. You're all willing to sacrifice others to get something you're not supposed to have."

Despite the truth in his words, there was unintended bias within. Lust scoffed lightly and folded her arms, growing a bit impatient with Edward's stubborn and naive outlook on life. "But you forget to remember that thousands of lives have already been sacrificed and are now what's keeping your brother alive. Those sacrifices have already been put to use, and you have the power to give them meaning, Full Metal. Waste them, and it would be an even greater sense of guilt to bear."

Edward gritted his teeth together. Cursed woman! How dare she bring his brother into this, but he had to admit that she did have a point. He was no different than any of the other homunculi, in that the sacrifices had already been made, and were now inside Al's shell for a body. Should he choose to let the Stone dissipate, then it would be the same thing as murdering them for no righteous cause - just a lost one.

"You still haven't answered my question, though. Why do you want to be human?" he asked, more politely now, though still had a sense of malice in his tone.

Lust whipped some hair out of her face to show off her still sad, yet hopeful smile. Didn't he understand yet? "I told you before. It's for the same reason that you want your brother's body back."

"Not good enough!" he yelled back, startling her slightly. "Stop using everyone else's reasons as your own excuses. Give me your real reason and I'll start considering granting your wish."

So he wanted the full truth, did he? Clever boy... He knew just what to ask to get what he wanted out of her, and though it was a painful recollection, she realized that it was why she wanted to feel the way a true human did so badly. "I want to know what love feels like, because I thought I felt it before, but wasn't sure."

Her words were simple, but heart-wrenching to him as he watched her face weaken with miserable images - images of deaths she didn't want. "...Scar told me that he had a brother, and that that same brother had a wife whom he tried to bring back from the grave. I told him that it was you, so that's why he was struggling so much around you. You were his guilty sin and he couldn't bear to look at you without regretting his former life."

"I know." she replied in a whisper.

"How do you know?" Edward said back angrily, surprising himself that he was now defending Scar's past, even when the two were once bitter enemies. "You can't know how awful he felt when he would look at you! It's just like me when I see the Sin that I created to be my mother - I can't suppress the guilt and horror in my mind!"

Lust shed a tear.

Edward silenced himself.

She was... crying?

"I can't know all that you both have endured, but..." She paused and let her smile widen slightly, ornately complimenting her pale face. "...I do know that I think I felt love for him, just as Sloth feels a recalled love for you and your brother." Edward stared at her cautiously, his flesh and bone hand shaking a little as he let it slip out of its tight grip. This homunculus was different than all the others. She had a desire unlike the rest of them, and it was a desire to understand her true feelings. She didn't want to just feel what her sin nature told her... Lust just wanted to love the way she used to before she turned into this _monster_.

Lust wiped away the tear lingering on her cheek and stared at the clear gem-like drop on her finger, seeing her reflection in it for a moment before it soaked into her skin. Clenching her fist shut in quiet determination, she spoke to the boy she hoped would make her dream a reality. "Help me understand myself, Edward. Help me know what it's like to love."

Slowly, he nodded and hung his head, fingering the necklace in his pocket for a moment before looking back up at her with a wry smile. "Let's go."

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A/N: Yes, I altered the original scene because I wanted her to get sappy. I think it works, though, and I say spread the Ed and Lust interaction love! He he, and I just love how they were able to share a slight similarity when they compared one another's trials, so it's spiffy to me. All right, if you liked this, leave a review. If you didn't and only want to flame my favorite FMA couple - leave. Thanks for reading, all!

_47th Light_


	5. Remembrance

A/N: Holy crap, I feel so giddy! Have you ever just gone on a random hunt and found a ton of stuff that you weren't expecting to find much of, and then discovered a whole truckload of it, and then you couldn't stop feeling so freaking hyper no matter how tired you were? Eeee, I feel that way right now! I'm really quite surprised that inspiration hasn't hit me yet, but I have a bunch of drabbles stored up to share, so I'll keep going strong! He he...

So this piece is something I have been dying to do ever since I got hooked on the pairing, and I love how this turned out! It's very much Lust being the bad girl that she is at the beginning, but as it progresses we get sappier and sappier until finally - plop. lol It's also longer than the previous pieces, too, so enjoy!

...You guys can tell I've been at LJ cantcha? lol "Drop the ramblings, Telle! Yeesh..."

**Spoilers for Episode forty-two!**

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Remembrance

Scar turned away from her determined scowl, blocking out her face that was still haunting him, even after he had accepted the bitter truth. The woman he loved was dead, and this was just a twisted form meant to only trick him. He wouldn't be her victim.

Lust growled again and shot her nails out, trapping him with the razors from Hell as she spoke. "You're not getting away from me until you've completed your work the way it was supposed to be done."

He barely moved, not out of fear of being cut by her swords for nails, but to show his steadfast poise and control around her. "All you want is a wish to come true, but I can't give that to you. You will have to do it yourself."

As he walked away from her, she hissed and retracted the razors, barely grazing his cheek when memories resurfaced. Memories of a former life - of a nearly forgotten tragedy that was playing its final scene with the only remaining hero. She was no heroine, for her motives were blurred; blotched by this sinful instinct within her concious mind, and it was longing to take control as she watched him walk away. Such pride, yet guilt in his steps, but there was a certain hint of grace in his posture, and those urges within her body seized her and she flitted to be next to him again, a deceitful smirk on her face.

"I already told you that I'm not letting you get away." she purred, the scarred man turning to face her briefly before a sharp nail pierced him and pinned him to a stone wall. He was bleeding enough already, and she had the foolish state of mind to toy with his memories? Truly a despicable woman. "Ohh, does that hurt? Should I kiss it and make it better?"

He furrowed his brow furiously, growling menacingly at her to stop playing with him so. "Don't touch me!" he snarled, warning her to not get any closer to him.

Lust ignored his raging eyes and only grinned seductively, knowing she had him trapped without hope for escape, unless he wanted to tear the rest of his arm off, too. "It looks like you don't have much choice in the situation, Scarred Man. You're mine either way." She didn't give him a chance to fight back as she stole the kiss she had been wanting ever since she first saw him as a potential comrade, delighting in the dry and tasteless feeling his forced kiss provided. Lust could sense him reeling on the inside, denying his every emotion directed towards her, and this made her want him more. She wanted him to admit he still felt something for the woman she once was, if not for who she was now, or rather _what_ she was.

The playful fingers of her free hand tangled themselves in his hair, grains of dry sand touching her gloved fingers, but she didn't mind. Anything that made him writhe and try to squirm away from her brought her pleasure. Pulling his lips away from hers forcibly, he let out a strangled cry as her nail ripped down from his shoulder and into the fresh wound still bleeding continuously.

Grinding his teeth, he glared at her in the most dangerous way, but she was undaunted by the cruel stare. "Stop toying with me." Scar seethed harshly, wishing he had at least one arm to push her away with. "The feelings I have are not for you and never will be!"

Lust merely smirked and let him march past her, but spoke again to halt his retreat. "So you do still have feelings for her then?" He didn't reply, his back facing her, as to taunt her now with the cruel reality of never having him the way she wanted. He didn't care what happened to her, just as long as she left him alone. Seeing that face was too much to bear, even now in his dying moments. "Did my face bring those feelings back?"

Scar took in a sharp, but hushed breath, brief images of the life he had before tragedy struck racing through his mind. Her face... it was that of an angel's, but this _thing_ was no angel. "I never lost them. I never wanted to forget her face because I loved her as my brother did." he replied, having to force out the last words with bitter regret. Loving your brother's wife was just as much an abomination as alchemy was to his people, but he had long-since accepted it as the truth, and kept it to himself. Admitting it to a homunculus shouldn't have had any lasting effect, especially since he was about to die. "My brother knew how I felt when he died... He had seen it all along, even when I was just a child. He saw everything I tried to hide. He knew I loved her."

Her mauve eyes began to soften, her instincts having subsided since he spoke so solemnly, as if the memories he had were ones he would rather forget. She was the same - except that the thoughts in her head were not her own. They were _hers_. "Would it be any consolation to know that I return your feelings for her?" she said hopefully, her tone of voice so much more gentle now that she was trying to make amends. Like him, she could no longer deny what was drawing her to him. He held the memories she wanted to understand.

Another growl elicited from his throat as he turned around to face her, growing irritated with her fickle behavior, not to mention how much her simple presence bothered him. "No, it wouldn't. Besides, you homunculi don't have feelings, only urges that you act on, which explains why you've been following me so relentlessly."

Lust smirked, noticing the window for humor open just slightly. "Have you even considered the thought that I may be following you because I find you attractive, and not because of my apparent 'sinful nature'?"

Scar narrowed his eyes into sharp, blood red daggers and scowled angrily. "Your sinful nature is all you have to base your apparent feelings on. If you had even a small part of her within you besides her face, you would understand that the way you live is an unforgivable existence. She would never act so ridiculously."

"But I do have a small part of her in me. I have some of her memories."

"That's not enough! The woman I knew was a gentle and loving wife to my brother, and I envied him for what he had. But just because you have her memories that doesn't make you her!" Now beyond furious with her, he pivoted around and started to march off, wanting to complete his mission before he lost his opportunity. The boy's life was still in the balance, and he had the only key to keeping him alive.

She watched him retreat, eyes dimming with his harsh words, but she could still fight back. If having _her_ memories weren't enough to convince him, then seeing her sad for letting him leave would emphasize her need for him. "You were just a boy back then... that day she married your brother."

Scar stopped instantly in his tracks, eyes widening by this startling recollection. This sin... she knew that? Did she really have _her_ memories?

Having noticed that he had stopped, Lust continued sadly. "You wanted to tell her how you felt the day before, but you were too shy, so you ran off and slept by the river. She came by later and covered you with a blanket she had woven herself, whispering to you that dinner would be ready by sunset." Another pause tickled the moment, hazy images clearing as he waited patiently for her to conclude. Lust saw that his stance had relaxed considerably, meaning that he was taking all of this in - every last word. "...You arrived on time for the evening meal and even said the prayer that night. You asked for... her happiness. You asked for your brother's happiness... You wanted your own happiness."

His face, once contorted by the miserable and painful memories, was now in a state of perplexed awe. She had remembered one of his most fond memories of the woman he loved, and it was perfect to the final detail. Perhaps if she became human he would accept her, but the only way that could happen was if the Stone was used to bring back her real flesh and bone body, and in order to do that, he had to die. He wouldn't even live long enough to see her face again - her true face.

Turning steadily and walking back to her, eyes cast down to the ground to avoid meeting her gaze, he spoke softly. "And they were happy. I had never seen them happier, and I was glad for them. God was merciful upon me that day... that night that I prayed for him to bless my new family. He gave me all that I asked for."

Lust finally found his eyes and stared at him meaningfully, swearing she saw a glimmer pass over the ruby gems. "Does he still listen to you?"

Scar nodded in reply, now barely a few feet in front of her. All he wanted now was one more good look at her face - to remember her. "Yes, and I'll pray that he will give you what you want." He paused and watched her face tense with faint anxiety, secretly fearing the words he could spit at her at any moment. But he knew not to discriminate her anymore, for he saw more than just a soulless doll. He saw the woman he loved as a boy... the woman he still loved, even now.

"...I hope you become a human."

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A/N: Are you in heaven? I'm in heaven. Hey, that must mean I'm an angel! Cool! Leave a review if you liked! Leave if you hate SxL. Cheerio!

_47th Light_


	6. Monster

A/N: Ack! Looks like somebody fell behind in updating! Dun worry, it's not that I didn't have anything written (quite the contrary, I have a ton of SxL stuff written), I just couldn't decide which to post. I settled for this one, because I've never seen it tackled before, and thought it'd be an interesting go. It's also for this challenge I'm doing with Shizu Kuwabara, and the prompt was "Monster", so here it is!

What are we dealing with here and what does it have to do with SxL, you ask? Okay, remember the oh-so-famous scene when young Scar shows up right after his brother did the transmutation, and then you see that look on Scar's face? He looks rather terrified, doesn't he? So I decided to lengthen the scene and take young Scar _inside_. -insert evil laughter here-

Dedication & Plug: To the first official SxL community at Live Journal, because they are awesome! Go over there and join! Also, I'm gonna start plugging good fics I've read, and since I'm finding myself in Alphonse mode, dude, Shizu Kuwabara's This is me is perfect! It really describes the dilemma of our dear and precious Al, so go read it!

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Monster

Something wasn't right - the air that hung so low told him so. It was like a blanket meant to suffocate him as he ran, breathing heavily, and rushing past the people of his homeland. No one dared to question the boy's motives for running so frantically as he did, dismissing it as something of a private family crisis. After all, they already knew he was the brother of the man who had been widowed not long before, so he had every right to still be upset over her death.

But he felt something else. He had a sense of anxiety sweep over him as he saw his brother's home just in sight, and that nagging feeling in his stomach only strengthened, making him want to double over in pain it was such an awful feeling. But he pressed on, banging his fists against the door that had been barred from his entrance. He knew something was wrong - he could feel it. There was an even more frightening air that floated about the small stone house, and it worried him; made him tense with utter fear for what could lie beyond that door.

"Brother, open this door! You have to talk to me and tell me what's going on!" he screamed against the wooden door, both angry and fearsome at the same time. "Brother!"

Just as he threw his fist forward one last time, the door opened, and hiding behind it like a coward was his brother, now scared out of his mind for what atrocity he had committed. The boy looked upon him for a moment, questioning his strange behavior when he noted the blood that stained his clothes. "Brother, what have you done! Have you touched the sinful alchemy Ishbala has forbidden!" he demanded furiously.

His brother hung his head in shame as he stepped out of the house, rolling mist following behind him as he shed tears of bitter defeat. "Forgive me, Brother... it cannot be done this way."

Furrowing his inquisitive brow, the younger encouraged the rest out of him. "What cannot be done? What _have_ you done, Brother!"

A painful sobbed was wrenched from his throat as he covered his face with a bloodied hand, the red liquid staining his warm cheeks with its shrilling coldness. Finding his quiet voice, he replied before walking away. "I tried... and failed to bring her back with the Great Art. It _cannot_ be done and Ishbala has punished me for my actions. She is now nothing more than a monster."

"Brother, you... you didn't...?" He had received nothing more than a guilty moan when he shot his gaze back at another sound; it sounded something along the lines of a growl. Nervously, he stepped inside and peered through the dark clouds at whatever his brother had created, still hearing the detested noises _it_ was making. The closer he got, the louder the sounds became, hisses and rumbles coming from the creature his brother feared. But why fear something that alchemy could create? Alchemy couldn't create life, so there was no point in being afraid of something it spawned.

But he feared _this_.

When its sharp, glowing eyes spotted the young boy staring at it so, it let out a high-pitched screech, but the boy didn't move, frozen in horror for this ungodly visage. It was covered in blood and God knows what else, and his eyes lost their brilliant crimson shine as the creature seemed to bubble with anticipation. He didn't know what it was trying to do... perhaps move? He bit his lip and held his ground, despite knowing he was immobile due to his well-seen fear, as the mass of various elements continued to groan and hiss, as if it were gasping for life. What life? There was no life that this creature deserved.

Then he saw her face, briefly, but it was long enough to make him realize just what his brother had done. Withholding the aching urge to scream, he grabbed the candle lit on the table, the only thing providing such dim light for the room, and then took the cloth it sat on as well. Glaring his most intimidating stare for his age, he brought the cloth over the dancing flame, and then tossed it at the monster before him. Again, its screeching peaked as the fire spread quickly over its so-called body, burning the apparent flesh on contact and searing into its very depths.

As the smoke began to billow and the sizzling sounds of the flames licking the flesh of the creature went on, he snarled viciously and spoke. "Go back to the Hell you came from!" he shouted, only to hear the most cruel of voices reply.

"And I'll take you with me." it seethed, its tone dark and forboding, the voice even more frightening than the way its body looked.

He took a step back as the flaming creature attempted to rise up and take him away into the painful death it deserved, still breathing in a growl, heaving up and down with each gasp it made. When it made a shrilling cry that was surely meant to be the last thing he heard, he made a running dash out the door, unheard of terror painting his face in a pale hue never seen before by his people. He had never been so afraid in his life, and he understood why his brother was so traumatized, now in nothing more than a cowardly state of mind. And it was all because of this creature...

This _thing_ his brother had created was indeed a monster - a monster that he could not kill.

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A/N: Meh, not as creepy as I would have liked for it to be, but it got the message across, I guess. And so it begins! The nightmares are gonna start comin', Scar... better run. And you better review! If you choose to flame, ha ha, you'll be fed to my neighbor's goldfish. Thanks for your time, all! Cheerio!

_47th Light_


	7. Secret Admirer

A/N: Yay! I hit thirty reviews! -dances- Y'all are so great, seriously! And the hits this series is getting astounds me, so I owe it all to you guys!

Something else that I owe you would be a cute SxL piece, and this is full of cuteness. Can I just say, young Scar and pre!Lust? lol Well, because of this tricky scenario, I have given them names, and these are names Iam sticking with from here on if I ever have to use them. They're also the names I selected to use for my AU FMA fic that I'm writing, Innocent Mind. It's not up yet, of course, because it's still in its early stages, but SxL will be in it in a huge way, so look forward to it!

But in the meantime, enjoy the cuteness of this drabble as it simply deals with the cute and adorable crush young Scar has on pre!Lust.

Dedication: To all the lovebirds out there this coming Valentine's Day! I may detest the holiday, but I can think of some lucky couples out there that love it. lol

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Secret Admirer

Humming to herself, she brushed through her dark curls easily, her soft voice carrying across the room and the surrounding area. Her voice was such a pleasant thing to hear, as it would quell an aching heart, and soothe ears that had been throbbing in pain for days on end. She was as beautiful as her song, light bronze skin complimenting her mauve eyes perfectly, and a sweet smile to complete the masterpiece that was her physical body.

Her heart, however was a different story all together. It was pure, selfless, and giving - attributes that made her a prized woman among her people, and she had managed to capture the heart of the intelligent scholar she had never expected to become joined to. She loved him like no other, and he loved her for more than just her beauty, for the body would pass away after death, and just her spirit would remain. It was her spirit he had fallen in love with. Not her eyes. Not her smile. Not even her voice.

Just her.

"Umm... excuse me, Miss Lydia?"

She let out a tiny gasp, barely audible as she turned to look down at the teenage boy that was her lover's younger brother. She smiled and bade him entrance, assuring him that he had not been rude in stopping by. "Good morning, Alexander. You look well today."

He blushed faintly and turned his eyes away, replying shyly to the woman his brother had been sworn unto forever. "S-so do you, Miss Lydia..."

Lydia giggled and continued to brush her hair, finding his adolescent behavior to be rather amusing. "Alexander, I've already told you that you don't have to call me Miss Lydia. Just call me by the name God gave me, not the one society has."

Nodding sheepishly, he looked back up at her again, growing braver, then suddenly blushed again when she smiled so beautifully down at him. "Yes, ma'am... I-I mean, Lydia..." She giggled again and set her brush down, searching for a barette to clip into her hair as he fought for his voice. "Umm, Brother sent me to get you so that I could walk you to the river."

"Walk me to the river?" she repeated, surprised that her lover had sent an escort for such a simple task. "I've gone there so many times, why does he think I need an entourage?"

Having gotten braver by her inquiry, he replied. "You never know what could be wandering around! He just wants you to be safe!"

Lydia stopped to think about the suggestion, then grinned once her clip was firmly in place, leaning down slightly to be at eye-level with the boy on the verge of becoming a man much like his brother, intelligent and resourceful. "Then I know I'll be safe with you, Alexander. You'll protect me, right?"

Again, he blushed a deep shade of crimson and tried to nod in approval, his heart pounding erratically in his chest. But after reminding himself of his respective duty, he stood straight before the woman he adored and put on a face that meant certain death for anything that dared to try and hurt her. "Yes, I will. I won't let anything hurt you."

Her smile remained sweet and sincere as she wrapped her arms around him, pulling him against her in a hug. Alexander's blush deepened upon the contact, eyes darting back and forth between her hair and the room, coming to stop permanently on the wall directly opposite of him. Just as he began to grow fascinated by the tapestry that was draped over her table, she spoke softly in his ear, words that melded themselves into an entirely different definition for him. "You are a sweet boy, Alexander. I can see why your brother loves you so much as he does, and I love you as well. I'll cherish you forever, never to forget you."

Finally, he recovered from his brief trance and swallowed the words, tucking them into his mind to reflect on later. "Y-yes... and I won't forget you, either M-... Lydia."

As she subdued a chuckle for his sake, she took the arm offered her and followed him out of the little house into the fragrant morning air that was mixed with laughter and chatter between fellow Ishbalans. They exchanged short words with those they passed, but Alexander found himself engulfed by the sweet sound of her voice humming once again - a song he would never forget.

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A/N: Doooomg, young Scar is so cute! I wanna adopt him! Dude, seriously, whenever you see a young Scar, don't you just want to hug him and feed him chicken noodle soup? lol He's so freakin' adorable! Ah, okay, I'm done being silly. If you liked this, do leave a review for me. If you didn't and would only like to flame, run before I beat you with my flashlight. That is all, thanks and have a great week! Oww, pain in ze hands... -takes painkillers-

_47th Light_


	8. Intoxicated

A/N: Ah, so nice to know that the SxL fans are ever faithful and true. My love goes out to each of you!

So for the last week or so, I've taken another break to rest my hands, as the pain seems to worsen every few days, but I'm hopefully going to get some help soon. I'm tired of having to stop myself from writing when so many ideas are floating around inside just begging to be written. Fortunately, I still have some SxL pieces stored up just for you guys, including this one that I've been wanting to do for quite a while. I didn't quite get what I wanted, but I'm satisfied with it. I hope you guys like it!

Dedication: To those that are hoping just as I am that this carpal tunnel will get better. You guys are so awesome to me!

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Intoxicated

She stared into the empty glass, her pale reflection staring back at her so that she could see her disappointed expression. She had been here for what seemed like hours, downing every glass of liquor she could think of, and still she felt no different. Even the hardest brand didn't make her twinge a bit, no sense of feeling out of the ordinary noticeable in her actions, except that she was getting more and more frustrated. The barkeeper was shocked, too, having given her several glasses of his best stock, and she didn't even look like she had taken one drink. Thus, he continued to give her what she asked for, since she didn't seem at all what she was intending to be.

As she nearly slammed the glass down, she glared at the barkeeper, a look of intensifying disgruntlement burning in the emotionless gems. "Please tell me you have something better..."

Though growing slightly wary of her rising temper, he nodded and snatched the last bottle he had on the shelf that he hadn't touched that night. In fact, he hadn't touched it in years, because all of his normal customers never even thought to try the stuff it was that potent and difficult to swallow. However, he had a feeling this wouldn't do the trick either, so he poured her a shot glass full of the amber liquid and passed it over to her.

With wonderous eyes, he watched her down it with ease, and again she didn't even flinch. He wasn't too surprised at this point, but he was more so afraid of the dangerous look in her eyes, backing away slowly from her steadily rising frame. "Miss, I-I think you're done for the night." he said nervously, preparing for the worst.

She didn't move as she glared at him, daggers ready to snap out at him at any given moment. This was so frustrating - she couldn't even get drunk if she wanted to! Such was the price she had to pay for being practically immortal. Yes, she had the normal components and features of a human body, but since she fed off of only the power of the Red Stone, nothing else of the physical world affected her.

But this angered her greatly. Ever since she first encountered Lejon, she had been experiencing the memories of her former self, and they were starting to haunt her continuously. They pained her in the same way that a bullet inflicts physical damage to a normal person, only these could not kill her. They just keep stinging, biting and digging underneath her soulless shell, pushing around inside until they were comfortably nestled inside her mind, never to leave.

So this had brought her to the tavern that night, sick and tired of the images that would flash before her every two seconds. After what seemed like hours, nothing even made her dizzy. Even her vision didn't blur in the slightest, and she was irate beyond imagining, ready to kill if anyone even got close to her.

The barkeeper was still cowering awat from her, wondering why she was lingering in his tavern when they both clearly knew she was done for the night. Feeling a little braver, he spoke. "Miss, did you not hear me? I believe you've had a drink of everything I have, so maybe you should be on your - ?"

Before he could finish his sentence, her claws had extended and she had him trapped between two razor sharp nails for walls. "I heard what you said the first time." she said darkly, bringing her claws further inward to tease his exposed neck. "If you value your life, don't say another word."

With the sweat beading on his brow, he barely managed a nod and she pulled back her claws, stealing another glare at the other casual drinkers in the tavern. Most didn't even dare to look her way, burying their heads in whatever they were doing. And those that were brave enough to maintain eye contact were given a deadly look, her mauve eyes now appearing blood red in the dim light.

Once she was done taunting her prey, she stomped out of the tavern into the night air, ignoring entirely where she was going. She didn't care, just as long as she could do something to get away from these nightmares for memories. Image after image after image - she couldn't take it anymore! With a growl, she didn't notice that she was heading straight into a tall man that was wandering the streets that night as well. After marching right into him, she turned her eyes up and glared maliciously.

"Out of my way!" she hissed, stopping suddenly when she saw his eyes. They were a familiar scarlet red, and held the same amount of bitterness hers did, only these were harder and more dangerous looking. Backing away as she scowled, she turned to walk the opposite direction, but she could tell that he hadn't moved. Why? Did he recognize her, or was it the other way around? She stopped again, back facing him as she pondered these thoughts for a few moments.

Now that she thought about it, something about him did seem familiar. His red eyes reminded her of another's from long ago, piercing in the way they glowed at night, and yet they were gentle somehow. She couldn't guarantee that they could be the latter, of course, because of the way they darkened considerably when he saw her, as if in pure confusion or anger. This made her curious and she about-faced, looking straight at his unmoved form.

"You look familiar." she said simply, studying him again. He had dark skin, too, and curiously white and gray hair, something that intrigued her, especially when he still appeared so young. Surely he couldn't be so old already...

He gave her something of an inquisitive look, but remained stoic. "Judging from where you came, I would say everyone looks familiar to you."

Before she had a chance to insult him back, he had turned away from her and walked off, leaving her alone in the empty street to contemplate his words. In a way they were rather humorous, but like her, he seemed to have a dry sense of humor as well. However, the words didn't insult her, either. Maybe they were a hinted compliment? Perhaps even words to say "I remember you"? It was all something she couldn't sort out, and yet she knew she had seen his face. She recognized it - memorized it. He was someone she apparently never intended to fully forget, and though that concerned her subconcious mind, she tucked it away with a small smile.

However, if he really was someone she had never met before, perhaps she was intoxicated after all.

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A/N: I guess I was trying to hint that this is before they encounter one another in the Library, so I hope you caught that. If you liked it, leave a review, if you didn't and just feel like flaming, be ye put out and leave. Later!

_47th Light_


	9. Do You Believe In Magic

A/N: Been a couple weeks, hasn't it? Ah, never fear, SxL fans! I come bearing post!series SxL-ness! (Note that you _have_ been warned) This was written in response to the monthly challenge on the SxL community at Live Journal. The prompt was "new beginnings", and I thought post!series was pretty much implied. So here's my piece inspired by none other than the Lovin' Spoonful's "Do you believe in magic"!

Dedication: To Ieva, who, with her outstanding description and portrayal of Scar in her own writings, has inspired me to write him at my best! Thanks, Ieva!

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Do You Believe In Magic?

The festive atmosphere lingered around the encampment, travelers from all corners of the area gathered here to live together in harmony. He didn't pay it much mind, as he too was a wonderer, far away from his original homeland and finding refuge with this group of people. The majority of them were a talented crew, music and dance one of their fondest traditions, and they had brought it into the camp that day, celebrating with song to a deity he wasn't sure if he believed in or not.

He didn't believe in much. He didn't believe in mankind, as it had turned into a heartless sort of the monstrous type, waging fruitless wars with each other for no real reason. Perhaps there were goals behind these attempts at overcoming a neighboring country, but he would never know them. He was just a man, without his home and family to fight for. All he had was himself.

He had barely any faith in a higher power, either, losing sight of that spirituality long ago when his people were forsaken and denied the right to exist. This nation to the east claimed that they were a worthless race, wishing them all dead, and claiming that they were the dominant people. He wasn't sure if they all believed that, or if only their leaders did, but it didn't matter, he supposed. If his God loved him and his people, surely something would have been done by now, right?

And he didn't believe in love, of course, finding it to be a ridiculous and useless emotion only to be wasted on the foolish minded. The concept of it and even thinking about experiencing it made him scowl with disdain, never wanting to feel anything of the sort. Love could be for the faint hearted and frivolous - never for him.

This aura of gladness and joy struck an odd chord with him, though, seeming to remind him of a memory so distant he wasn't even sure if it was real. Images of a desert people strikingly similar to his pulsated in his mind, fire lighting the center-most point of the memory, and song echoed around him. There were so many people he didn't recognize, and even if he had, he wouldn't be able to tie them to the people he knew now, as all of the family and friends he had before were all dead or gone elsewhere.

His hazy gaze fell on a kind pair of soft red eyes, glasses on the brim of his nose and a smile was on the man's gentle face. "Alexander, won't you join in the fun with your friends?" the man said, his voice echoing and bouncing off the walls of his mind. That was the name he had now... was this really a memory? "Staring at the fire won't bring you any joy, now. Go ask for a dance with one of the girls."

Though the memory was already beginning to fade, the fire growing dimmer, he could tell that he hadn't wanted to participate in the manner this man wanted him to. A look of distaste fell on his present expression, shaking away the memory as he glared on at the foolish sight before him. Many of these "gypsies" as they called themselves had taken part whole-heartedly in the festivities, men and women alike dancing about like they had nothing at all to worry about in the world. They seemed as though nothing was wrong at all with society. All that mattered to them was now and that they wanted to enjoy their time together.

"Fine" he thought. "Let them do as they please. I won't involve myself in another tradition that isn't my own."

"Excuse me?" purred a soft, but still intriguingly deep feminine voice from above. He brought his gaze up to meet with a amazingly astounding pair of mauve eyes, and skin like his. Her hair was a long and dark brown, waves of it flowing down her back and cascading over her shoulders. She had a nervous, but gentle smile on her lips as she looked down at him, noting the slight hint of surprise on his features. "I couldn't help but notice that you were sitting here by yourself, and thought you could use some company. Would you mind if I stayed with you for a little while?"

Trying to mask his faint excitement with his usual stern glare, he replied. "Do what you will."

Despite his dry response, she was eager to accept it and sat beside him, looking over his features again. She had been staring at him for some time now, but seeing him this close made her heart flutter with girlish glee. Unlike her, he had stark white hair and slightly darker skin than her own, no doubt kissed by the sun after all these years in such a climate. His features intrigued her greatly, though, and she found herself wondering how such an attractive man wasn't taking part in the celebration before him. Was he just shy, or was he something of a public recluse, defiantly sitting before the fire while the others danced? Most likely both, she figured, as his expression answered every question she considered asking.

The pain written in his eyes told his story, a tale of tragedy, heartbreak, and even confusion. He had lost someone very dear to him, a family member most likely, and he carried the guilt of death on his shoulders all the way across the desert. No wonder he never opened up to anyone, she thought, not wishing to grow close to another for fear of losing them so suddenly. His heart had been broken to pieces long ago, as well, the woman he loved marrying another instead of him. Heartbreaking indeed, thus confirming his shy nature around the other women of the camp. Then his perplexed expression aroused a great deal of suspicion in her mind, seeming to believe that bits of his existence were strewn about between two different, yet surprisingly similar lives.

She could understand so much without asking questions, but her silence wasn't helping to improve the look on his face, so she found her voice again and spoke. "Do you believe in fate, Stranger?"

He glanced her way, wishing he could wipe away that curious smile on her face. He hated feeling like he was inferior compared to anyone, especially a woman. "I don't believe in anything." he replied, succinctly. Did it matter at all to anyone what he believed? It didn't even matter to him, so why should someone else care?

"That's a shame," she said, turning her head to look directly in front of her, grinning at the display of young children dancing together around the fire. "We are the last of a people that believed in so much, and it is true that we are dying, but not just physically. Our way of life is withering away because we are losing sight of our faith."

That was true, he knew, having cast aside his beliefs on the dirt road many miles behind him, and pressing forward only by means of his determination. This woman, however, rekindled that faint desire to reclaim his religion, having seen that glowing smile on her face that reminded him of the way he used to smile as a child on the way to devotions in the village. His brother had taught him so much of their faith, and would surely be disappointed to know that his pupil had forgotten it all already. Maybe it was possible to believe again.

"And what do you believe in?" he asked, his tone lighter and more curious now.

Her lips remained bold and true in their upward curve as she spoke. "I believe in many things, Stranger."

"Alexander." he said sharply, no longer wishing to hear such a nameless title roll off her tongue.

Chuckling slightly, she continued. "Well, _Alexander_, I have faith in our God, in our people, and in the love we have for each other. There's no greater power than love, this I would like to know for myself." She then stood up, her admirable figure glowing in the firelight as she turned to face him, hand stretched out for his. He looked at it peculiarly, then back up at her sparkling eyes, as if they were begging for him to accept her unspoken proposal.

"I already told you, I don't believe in anything." he told her gruffly, standing up so that he could walk away. However, he couldn't make his legs move past her after being captivated by that mesmerizing hue of her eyes, both shimmering as if they were freshly refined jewels directly out of the fire.

She gently took his hand in hers, fingers soft and warm against his hard and calloused grasp. Such a delightful feeling... "Then I think you should believe in magic, Alexander, because that's the only thing that can make you believe in anything else."

He didn't have another chance to argue when she pulled him over into the group of dancing people, tambourines and drums beating incessantly in his ears as she danced around him, laughing as the children joined in. Needless to say, he felt rather foolish, but when he took note of the strange feeling in his chest, he recognized it to be happiness. It was steadily rising to the surface and asking for him to feel it with all of his heart. He could not so readily accept it so soon, but he would allow it to chip away at his hardened spirit, secretly wishing to start over at this second chance he had in living life.

Maybe it was only magic, but whatever it was, he loved it.

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A/N: Think Scar was pretty IC? Honestly, I think he was almost a little _too_ IC. lol But that's just me. If you liked this, leave a review, and if you didn't, dun flame! Thanks for your time!

P.S. - Oh, and if you're wanting to read a longer SxL piece with some fluff in it, go check out my piece entitled Ever Dream. It's my baby, and I love it to death!

_47thLight_


	10. Immortality

A/N: Okay, I know this one looks short, but I drabbled it to help me get out of a slump. It's also a variation of the events that we _know_ transpire after Episode Forty-Two, and yet, I couldn't help myself. I had the thought that what if Scar showed up after Wrath killed Lust and just then started to realize how he felt about her? I tinkered and tried to use some more "elaborate" description, so I hope you like this!

Dedication: To those that have been encouraging me for whatever reason these last couple of weeks. Y'all are awesome!

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Immortality

He walked into the seemingly abandoned building, caution in his steps as he felt something pull and wrench his heart. Death was lingering here, and it was so close he could almost taste it. He almost felt afraid of what he could find, dreading a terrible visage of someone he knew strewn about in pieces on the ground. Mentally, he cringed, fighting back the grotesque images with a familiar scowl. Yes, he may have killed many in his time, and brutally, at that, but the thought of even imagining a loved one dead stung him like mad. He couldn't bear such agony - ever.

His steps echoed along the walls, hollow and empty as he carefully examined his surroundings. Even though the place appeared empty and cold, he couldn't deny feeling something awful in the pit of his stomach, warning him for what he was about to see. It was as if a tiny flesh eating creature was deep inside him, gnawing away at him until he gave in and screamed out to God for his misery to end. It was there, and he was about to give in.

As he rounded a large stack of crates, most likely containing leftover research materials, he saw a mass of what looked to be crushed raven silk spilling out onto the floor. But once he came into full view, he stopped and felt his heart sink lower than it did when his brother died in front of him.

"Don't be... please..." he muttered, cautiously - shakily walking towards the frighteningly still body lying before him. She looked even paler than when he first saw her in the library, skin a ghostly shade of white, and eyes completely lifeless. Her ebony hair lay in a crumpled heap, nothing more than a mess of what looked like black snakes to the untrained eye. After kneeling beside her, he gingerly reached out to brush through the strands, pushing them away from her face to confirm his worst suspicions.

Just when he had started to accept her, this happened, and the deep slash wound over her neck and shoulder proved it. It was a bloody, messy gash, stretching from her raven hairline to her shoulder blade, deep and still slightly fresh. With shaking hands, he touched the wound, feeling her still barely warm blood cover his fingers. It was a bitter, yet gentle sensation, touching her when he hadn't ever been able to since he encountered her. His faith and accusations against her had kept him from doing so, but now he could, and this made him smile genuinely, tears welling in the red iris'.

The tender touch stirred something inside him, compelling him to take her in his arms to cradle as he wished he could have in his younger days. Without looking again to make certain that he was alone with his forbidden Sin, he slipped his arms around her slender frame and held her to his heart, crying silent, yet deafening tears. She was so soft as he knew she would be, melting against him and falling perfectly into place in his embrace, her long black hair like something of a sinful veil to shade her emotionless eyes. The perfection that was her imitated body was as close to flawless as he could imagine, features gentle, but beautiful in every sense of the term, enthralling him - seducing him into falling in love with her yet again.

She was so easy to love and fawn over, boasting the body of a goddess and the voice of a soothing winter faery. It was no wonder he was entranced by her all those years ago. And even in death, she was still the loveliest woman he had ever seen, despite not being a true human like she so desired. And why did she want to be human? Perhaps to be with him or unravel her hidden emotions from years past? He couldn't be certain, but he knew deep down that in the end she had achieved the goal she sought after so ardently.

By dying she realized that she could be human, and remained with him as an immortal, living on in his memory to never die nor fade from time.

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A/N: Ah, the tragedy - the angst - the sap. Did you like it? Review. Didn't like it? Don't flame. Thanks for your time!

_47thLight_


	11. Unable

A/N: Glah, I don't have a very good excuse for not updating this lately. Would "I'm in YYH mode" be sufficient? lol But dun worry, I'm slipping back into an FMA mode slowly, but surely, and I have this piece to thank. Inspired by the SxL community's monthly challenge, in which the prompt "rain" was served up, I took the order and whipped up something I'm quite proud of. I hope you like this, everybody!

Dedication: To Fey - Happy birthday! Thanks for being so supportive, helpful, and loving, my dear!

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Unable

It was late that night, a distant thunder rumbling to the west as he roamed the abandoned streets aimlessly. No alchemists were out at this time of night, so he didn't feel it necessary just yet to try and sleep, even though the nagging need to do so was pestering him in the back of his mind. He couldn't shake the feeling that something was waiting in the shadows for him, as if to pounce in the moment he wasn't prepared for an assault of any kind. Every now and then, he did encounter a random thug that would try to rob him of that which he didn't have, but he would quickly do away with them by making use of the brick buildings in the city. As of that night, no more petty thieves had attempted the impossible. He supposed that word got around, and therefore they decided to leave him alone.

But this feeling in the pit of his stomach was different. He felt like he was a helpless little mouse that was steadily creeping into the ever-watchful gaze of a nearby cat looking for a midnight meal. Normally, he never felt such a well concealed panic, having the build that one would fear and run away from, but it seemed like he was a tiny, defenseless child again; one in need of protection and comfort as he walked alone at night...

To keep his thoughts occupied, he quickly chided himself of his idiocy and strode on through the empty streets, hands tucked in his pockets as he came to walk past a familiar little flower shop at the corner of a dark alley. He passed it every day in his wanderings, so it wasn't anything new to behold, however there was a simple vase sitting outside with a few stemmed roses emerging from the decorative urn. The florist usually brought all of her flowers inside at the end of the day, but he easily assumed that she must have forgotten to take them back into the small shop for the night. So with a seemingly ignorant expression on his face, he walked on by as if he hadn't seen them, stepping off of the sidewalk and onto the stone street of the alley.

"I would think a wanted man would stay in the shadows to protect himself, but you must be trying to make a statement, Scarred One."

He stopped in mid-stride and didn't turn to look upon the creature that bore his childhood adoration's face. Instead, he glared hard at the path in front of him and spoke in a dark tone meant to show that he cared nothing for her presence. "It's no different than a demon walking among angels - this you should know for yourself, no doubt."

She chuckled softly and walked out of the shadows, her heeled boots clopping on the stone ground alerting him that she was coming closer. Out of his peripheral vision, he caught the glimpse of her nearly perfect body; her tight-fitting black dress hugging every curve almost too much for his sinful enough mind to comprehend, and long raven tresses covering her left eye so that she could gaze upon him in the most enticing manner she knew. She had her ways of seducing that which she longed to have, but he was almost literally a stone wall, and there was no convincing him to fall into her trap.

"Are you comparing us to the world, or the world to us?" she asked him, voice silkily smooth to his senses.

Finally, he turned his head to look at her, seeing that confident smirk from the library form on her features. Maintaining his cold stare, he replied. "You can decide that for yourself. But if you must know, you and I are practically seen as servants of the Devil, so we should both be put to death for our sins."

"How can a Sin die, Scarred One?" she urged, as if to claw out the nasty things he could say before she would try to snatch her prey. There was something much more intriguing about this man than the others she had convinced with her seductive smile - he had a part of her that no one else did, and she wanted that just as badly as she wanted him.

"By facing the truth..." he started, reaching into his pocket to pull out the pendant that hung loosely on a piece of twine. "...And repenting of your iniquities."

When the object came into view, she froze, a severe pain forcing her legs to stiffen and lock in place. She couldn't breathe, defend herself, or even twitch her finger - the predator had now become the prey. As she watched him come closer, the necklace swaying back and forth as he approached, she could feel her heart bang and pump wildly inside her chest, as if to try and escape from her threatening fate. That look in his eyes made her feel fear for the first time since she met Dante, that despicable woman that raised her into this being that killed and persuaded others simply to gain information for a legend turned reality. Dante had wanted her to go after the Scarred One specifically in an attempt to get the knowledge they required, but that wasn't what his brother's creation wanted anymore.

She wanted herself, and he had it. He had more than just the secrets of the Stone - he had her past and now her future in his grasp.

"I know seeing this makes you weak." he stated clearly, that fiery red gleam of his eyes now dull and blending with the nighttime scheme. If she didn't already know it for herself, she would have thought that he was a servant of the Devil after all. "It has a part of what you were before, and because you can't handle that, you cannot handle the truth of your dark deeds."

"So you'll kill me, then?" she barely managed to say, vocal chords straining under this paralyzing pain in her once immortal-like body.

"If I so choose to."

"Then do it."

Slightly irritated by her attempt at ordering him to do away with her, his glare intensified, and as he raised the sleeve covering his right arm, the tattoo marks made her heartbeat jump. Complex and horrifying at the same time, she inwardly braced herself for the fate that was undoubtedly coming. But if she was to die, she would rather it be at his hand than another's. She felt it appropriate that one sinner would take the life of another, as if to repay some sort of sinful debt. He would kill her in return for being free of her familiar face, and she would finally be at peace, no matter what sort of death she endured.

Raising his hand to plant on her forehead, he let his fingernails touch her silky bangs, the fine strands barely making his senses reel, but the sensation was just enough to snag his attention. To his surprise, the look in her eyes was not one of absolute fear or hatred, but was instead of gratitude, as if she seemed glad that he was paying her such a compliment as death by his hand. Her mauve colored gems were so soft he began to believe they were a glowing form of velvet, begging for him to reach out and touch them... to claim them. His first instinct was that she was again trying to capture him in her needy clutches, but the way her eyes stared at him told him otherwise. Her actions were in no way catty or vicious, much less desiring.

She was acting sincere and humble like the woman he knew before.

And suddenly, he found that he was incapable of carrying out the task she had told him to do, his hand quickly moving from her forehead to grasp itself behind her neck, bringing her against him for a moment. The lightning flashed in the midnight sky, illuminating their dark frames against the charcoal canvas of the brick building they hid behind, and as soon as the thunder rumbled throughout the city, a gentle, but still strong rain followed. Each droplet soaked into her black hair, the wet strands clinging to her pale face that was being kissed fervently by the man she thought surely would kill her that night, but instead, she found herself in his arms, lips touching for those blissful moments in time before the chilling wind of the storm forced them to part.

As the rain fell and cascaded down from the sky, he tucked the necklace back into his pocket, turned on his heel then spoke before walking away. "I am unable to kill those that are already dead, so I will not be the one to pass judgment on you this night."

Then he strode forward, rounded the corner he originally came from and disappeared out of sight. But just a second after he faded into the night, something long and thin fell onto the wet ground at the end of the alley. Once she remembered how to breathe and walk, she cautiously walked towards the mysterious object, then looked closer at its delicate frame; it was a long-stemmed rose. The petals were a deep red, she could tell, but in the picturesque setting, they seemed black, and she felt it was all the more fitting for a sinner such as herself.

Taking the rose in her gloved hand, she smiled into the raining night, and walked in the opposite direction of the Scarred Man she knew held her essence. As he carried her existence, she let the rose, now soaked by the rain represent the forsaken, yet mutual love she felt they now shared.

A kiss in the rain was more than a gesture of good will to her – it was a sign meant to say that he could never kill her.

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A/N: -drool- SxL kiss in the rain - ya gotta love it, kids! And how about that? He didn't kill her! Woot! Scar's such a softie and he knows it! So if you liked this, do leave a review. If you somehow didn't, and only wanna flame my favorite FMA pair, away with ye! Thanks for your time and support, all!

_47th Light_


	12. A Beautiful Story

A/N: I'm such a slacker. I waited until nearly the last minute to write and post my entry for the monthly challenge at Live Journal's SxL community, but nevertheless, I do have a winner here! The prompt was "fairytales", and needless to say this boggled me like mad, but I finally conjured something plausible and workable. I based it off of the common fairytale of Beauty and the Beast, and just to avoid hysterical disclaimer maniacs, I do not own that story, so don't throw rocks at me just because I use some of the actual story in this fic.

Dedication: To Momoiro Usagi at LJ who has been an awesome encouragement these last few weeks. Love ya, hon!

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A Beautiful Story

In the darkness of the old library in the quaint little town, Lust knew that she wouldn't find much of value here, but there was a possibility that an alchemist who used to live in these parts could have stowed away a book about the Philosopher's Stone. It was a long-shot, but she was bored anyway, and was fed up with Envy's impossible company. Fortunately for her sanity, Gluttony was off in the woods nearby getting what he called a "snack". Regardless, she was grateful for the time she had to herself, even in a dusty little library.

As she peered around at the small science and education section, she found nothing of immediate interest. Titles like u Mathematic Principles /u and u Chemical Reactions /u did not snag her attention, for she already knew everything required, she just didn't have the means to make these things happen, except through manipulation. Her beauty and feigned charm were her only true allies and strengths, and her victims would fall for it every time.

But her beauty was stolen from another and her charm was something she could easily fake. Nothing about her was genuine or complete, and she was just a puzzle with the last piece missing. Of course, this still infuriated her day after day, taunting her stolen memories that could never be her own until she became whole. And who was the only one who held that key?

_Master_.

How she hated having to call the wretched woman that, especially since Lust knew that the superior alchemist had been pulling on all of their helpless little strings all this time. The homunculi were nothing more than mere puppets to use at her command, and they had no choice but to do her will – even Envy followed his "mother's" orders.

Shaking the frustrating thoughts out of her head, Lust scanned the top shelf, spotting an author's peculiar name that sparked her interest, but the title of the book made her wrinkle her nose in slight disgust. However, in a sort of arrogant manner, she snatched the book and looked at the cover, the title printed in mimicking gold ink that she read aloud, "Beauty and the Beast." she scoffed lightly, admiring the author's name one more time before opening up the book to skim through it.

To her surprise, the bulk of the book was filled with beautifully illustrated pictures of a radiant young woman with long hair, pale features, and brilliant rose red lips. Lust easily assumed that this must have been the title's star character, Beauty. Drawn in by the detail in the first picture, she found an old raggedy chair to sit on and began to read with slight interest.

"Once upon a time…" , the beginning read, as did most tales of the sort, "In a very far off country, lived a merchant who had been so fortunate in all his undertakings that he was enormously wealthy."

Lust found that to be vaguely familiar – like Dante, only she wondered if this merchant was just as selfish, or if he had much better motives. Curious, she read on, "As he had six sons and six daughters, he found that his money was not too much to let them all have what they fancied." Absent-mindedly, she breathed a sigh of relief – she didn't need to hear another repeat of her master's ways.

As she read on to learn of the family's sudden misfortune by means of a house-fire, Lust began to learn more about the family itself, particularly the youngest daughter who was the maiden pictured in the illustration, fondly known as 'Beauty', for she was just as her name suggested; beautiful. The precious maiden was incredibly unselfish and was always willing to do what needed to be done, even when it was her older sisters' responsibility to do so. In a way, that reminded Lust a little bit of herself – she often had to do the dirty work when no one else would, but the sad thing was, she often enjoyed it. Amazingly, she was shocked to hear that Beauty enjoyed the extra tasks she was given, too – such irony.

But unlike Lust, Beauty was happy and joyful all the time, trying to be an encouragement to her family when all hope seemed to be gone. Her father and brothers were more than grateful for her gaiety, but her sisters resented it, almost claiming that Beauty was crazy and foolish. That struck a chord in Lust's mind, recalling the Scarred Man's misfortune for being labeled a heretic by his own usually accepting people. Steadily, this saddening fairy-tale began to intrigue her more.

Finally, some seemingly wonderful news reached the family that one of the merchant's ships he once believed to be lost had returned to port. This meant that there was hope of regaining their previous lives, and each begged for their father to set off on the journey to claim his ship – all except for Beauty.

Again, Lust had to pause, finding such unmistakable familiarity in this tale, as if she had read and lived some of it already. When she read the words it felt as if she was telling the story for a second time, or rather, the story was being retold to her.

Before the merchant's departure, he was sweet enough to ask his children if there was anything their heart's desired upon his return. Many of them wished for finer clothes and gold to purchase a better piece of land to live on, but Beauty merely requested that her father bring her back a rose, as they were rare in their part of the country. Though her humble request was easily ignored by her sisters, the father agreed to do his best and bring his favorite child back what she wanted.

So many similarities to herself… She didn't want money or material things anymore – all she wanted was her soul so that she could love like he knew her former self had done. She wanted to know if this strange feeling where her heart was supposed to be was directed genuinely at the Scarred Man…

Eventually, she learned that the goods of the ship had already been divided amongst the merchant's former partners, having believed him to be dead, and when he set off on the journey back home, discouraged and still as poor as when he started, he found himself lost in the woods, bringing his trip away from home to be six month's time. He finally stumbled upon a seemingly abandoned castle, and though he was wary of the place, he found the cold to be far too unbearable. So he invited himself in to sit by the fire, rest and woke up to discover a delicious meal prepared at the table. Afterwards, he took his horse to the stable, and on the way back, he walked along a path lined with exquisite flowers of nearly every fathomable bloom, including the most beautiful roses he had ever seen. Recalling that Beauty had requested the rose, he plucked one, only to soon be horrified by the most terrible sound.

It was then that a ferocious beast towered over him, demanding to know why the old man was stealing his precious roses. Frightened, the merchant meekly replied that it was only for his precious daughter. The Beast bellowed out harsh words of the thieving merchant who had been given so much, and had come to take more from a poor creature such as himself, but when the old man cried out that what trouble his daughter's wish had brought him, the Beast offered mercy, but at the expense of one of his daughters that would have to live with him at his castle, or else the merchant would die.

Lust saw another analogy of the daughter's request to her own dream – there was much sacrifice in obtaining what you wished. For the merchant's life, he would have to give up one of his beloved daughters, and for Lust, many, many lives would have to be taken so that she could gain her soul. Equivalent exchange applied even in simple folklore.

Though deeply saddened that the price would be so heavy, the merchant thanked the Beast for his mercy and began the journey home, but not before the rose he had plucked was offered to him once again. Grateful, he hurried home to his eager children who were all discouraged to hear of the terrible tale, while Beauty was only happy to see her father safe and sound. However, once she was told of the Beast and of the sacrifice one the daughters would have to make, she bravely stepped forward and volunteered to be the one. Her brothers and father pleaded that she not force herself to do such, but she had admitted that it was her own "foolish request for a rose" that had gotten her father into this predicament, so she insisted that she go for the sake of the family.

And so the beautiful maiden returned to the castle with her father for a brief few nights, accepting to stay with the Beast, though rather frightened of him. After her father had departed with goods graciously given by the Beast himself, Beauty found herself alone in this dark castle with the creature, but she somehow didn't find him to be as cruel as his appearance boasted. Each night at dinner, they would talk of small and simple things, and at the end of the meal, he would always ask her to marry him. But each time, Beauty would politely refuse, so he would thus bid her goodnight until the next day.

However, amidst all this redundancy, each night in her dreams Beauty would see a charming and handsome prince, who would talk with her so sweetly she found herself to be falling in love. Night after night she would dream of him, but just like her conversations with the Beast, the prince would plead with her as to why she continued to hurt him so. It was a matter of pure repetition in this castle, it seemed, but Lust was struck by something that almost made her feel hopeful.

"Ah, Beauty! You are not so unfortunate as you suppose. Here you will be rewarded for all you have suffered elsewhere. Your every wish shall be gratified. Only try to find me out, no matter how I may be disguised, as I love you dearly, and in making me happy you will find your own happiness. Be as true-hearted as you are beautiful, and we shall have nothing left to wish for."

Reminded of her hopes and dreams for a future that had meaning, Lust couldn't help but gingerly touch the drawing on the opposite page, illustrating the sweet scene of the prince begging for Beauty to look deeper than what her eyes could see. Lust already saw deeper into the Scarred Man, not viewing him as a monster like he was labeled, and easily called himself, but she saw something genuine, too. Like her, he wanted something better than what he had, but unlike her, he knew he would never be able to obtain it. He was too much of a pessimist for his own good.

The story went on in the same manner, but at one point, Beauty requested of the Beast that she be allowed to return home for a two month period to be with her family. Dejected and heart-broken, the Beast cried out, "Ah! Beauty, have you the heart to desert an unhappy Beast like this? What more do you want to make you happy? Is it because you hate me that you want to escape?"

"No, dear Beast," answered Beauty softly, "I do not hate you, and I should be very sorry never to see you any more, but I long to see my father again. Only let me go for two months, and I promise to come back to you and stay for the rest of my life."

The Beast, who had been sighing dolefully while she spoke, now replied:

"I cannot refuse you anything you ask, even though it should cost me my life. Take the four boxes you will find in the room next to your own, and fill them with everything you wish to take with you. But remember your promise and come back when the two months are over, or you may have cause to repent it, for if you do not come in good time you will find your faithful Beast dead. You will not need any chariot to bring you back. Only say good-by to all your brothers and sisters the night before you come away, and when you have gone to bed turn this ring round upon your finger and say firmly: 'I wish to go back to my palace and see my Beast again.' Good-night, Beauty. Fear nothing, sleep peacefully, and before long you shall see your father once more."

At first Lust was appalled to read that Beauty had the nerve to leave the Beast after all he had done for her, but the deeper in thought she became, she realized that Beauty's intentions were sincere, and that she would gladly come back to the Beast to keep him from unquestionable misery. However, this didn't seem to strike any familiar notes with Lust, as if this was all completely foreign to her. The Beast's actions, and not even Beauty's seemed recognizable to her mind's eye, so with a slightly confused demeanor, she went on.

As she had said, Beauty returned to her family with many special gifts, spending time with her family that were now living in town again, enjoying a life of ease. But over time, Beauty began to miss the Beast, and especially her dreams of the prince, of whom she did not dream of once in her time away from the castle. Nor did she quote the phrase the Beast had asked her to, meaning to say it each night, but would put it off every time. Lust found herself rather disgusted by this, knowing that each moment Beauty delayed, the closer the Beast's end drew near. She knew all humans could be selfish – all of them.

But one night, Beauty finally had a dream, but a rather dismal one, featuring the Beast alone in a cave, dying of his broken heart. After he reproached the maiden, a stately lady appeared before Beauty to tell her, "Ah! Beauty, you are only just in time to save his life. See what happens when people do not keep their promises! If you had delayed one day more, you would have found him dead."

Terrified by this dream, Beauty decided to leave the very next day, and simply by declaring the words "I wish to go back to my palace and be with my Beast again" she found herself back at the castle. As usual, she waited until supper in hopes that the Beast would join her, but when he did no such thing, she hurried into the garden in which her precious rose had been found and began to search for the creature. When she did find him, she wailed loudly, for he was just as her last dream had illustrated; on the ground and dying.

"Oh he is dead, and it is all my fault!" Beauty cried bitterly.

But then, looking at him again, she fancied he still breathed, and, hastily fetching some water from the nearest fountain she sprinkled it over his face, and, to her great delight he awoke.

"Oh! Beast how you frightened me!" she cried. ""I never knew how much I loved you until just now, when I feared I was too late to save your life."

"Can you really love such an ugly creature as I am?" said the Beast faintly, "Ah! Beauty, you only came just in time. I was dying because I thought you had forgotten your promise."

Lust stared in wonder at the illustration of the maiden cradling the Beast in her arms, tears streaking down her perfect face in clear representation that she was mourning for the poor Beast's condition. It was just then that Lust noticed a peculiarity in the paper in the shape of an irregular blotch. She touched it to be surprised that it was wet, and noticing this, she also felt something cool on her cheek. She was crying over a fairytale?

Could words of folklore really have such a tremendous impact on a soulless creature such as herself? To bring her to tears that she had never before cried? It was possible, and here was the evidence, the wetness already beginning to fade into the parchment that was begging to be read, as she only had but a page more to complete. Deciding to piece it all together once finished, Lust resolved to finish the tale at once.

It went on to say that a few moments later after the Beast recovered, the two went back into the dining hall to have their supper, in which the bold, yet now simple question of marriage arose again. Beauty promptly and sincerely replied that she would, and as she spoke, blazes of light and sound shot about her, filling the room in a glorious golden and white atmosphere. Amazed but still confused, Beauty had turned to the Beast to ask what was amiss, and was surprised to see her beloved prince from her dreams. At the same moment, two women appeared in the room, one the stately woman from the dream, and the other a lady of apparent royal stature.

As it turned out, the stately lady was an enchantress who had cursed the prince to live in a beastly manner as his cold heart suggested he was, and it was only when he would learn to love and be loved in return that he would revert to his normal self. And the royal woman at the enchantress' side was none other than the prince's queen mother, who consented with all of her heart to allow her son to marry the charming Beauty.

"…And they lived happily ever after."

The last illustration was by far the most breathtaking, the astounding Beauty dressed in a gown of long, white flowing fabric, veil flowing behind her as she danced with her dashing prince of her dreams. In the foreground was a beautiful stain glass window with the apparent portrait of a blooming rose, as if to simply bring more color into the photo, but Lust knew what the artist was trying to interpret; even in evident ugliness, there is always beauty.

She finally found the courage to close the book and looked upon the title again, finding such meaning in just those four simple words. Fairytale or not, it felt significant, as she had felt ugly and plainly sinful for her very being, there was still hope that she could achieve her goal. And just as the Scarred Man found himself to be the lowest of the low, there was by far more than one chance for him to redeem himself and show his true colors.

Intruding on her pleasant thoughts came a sharp voice from the doorway, Lust peering over her shoulder to meet with the perpetual gaze of Envy who sneered, "What are you still doing in this dusty old place? Have you found anything useful for our master yet?"

"No, I didn't find anything," Lust replied, pushing the book back into its former place on the shelf, being careful to tuck it in neatly so that the librarian wouldn't notice anything different about his precious store in the morning.

"Then what _did_ you find?" Envy demanded, hints of arrogance in his tone.

With her fingers still lingering on the binding, Lust softly replied, "A beautiful story."

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A/N: So did ya like it? Cool if ya did, sorry if ya didn't. Do leave a review and not a flame for me, would you? You're so kind! Later!

_47th Light_


	13. Playing Games

A/N: I have an excuse for my slowness and it's in my profile. lol

This was written in response to the July challenge for the Scar x Lust community at Live Journal, and the prompt we were given was "Forgiveness". I seriously didn't think that I could get anything done this month due to physical complications, but to my surprise, I was able to hang tough and wrote something on my OTP for FMA. I sure hope you guys enjoy this one, but fair warning - it's AU. Yummy cookies go to the people that can guess who the mother is in this ficlet.

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**Playing Games**

"Mommy!" the little girl cried to her mother as she ran down the dirt road to their little house, her long, dark brown curls trailing behind her. "Alex keeps making fun of Hippo!" She gestured behind her as the large, almost bald dog came running after her, breathless and panting as he was followed by a dark-skinned boy who looked rather stoic instead of sinister and mischievous.

The pale woman with short brown hair looked at her daughter, at the dog, and then to the boy that had finally joined the rest of the group. "What sort of things has he been saying, Lydia?" she asked, trying to keep the discussion from turning into an all-out war between the children she knew had a tendency to bicker. If only there were more kids in the neighborhood for her youngest one to play with, and her older brothers were even worse, the little devious brats…

"He's saying that Hippo is fat and will eat me in my sleep tonight!" Lydia replied, folding her arms across her chest as she turned to glare at the boy, again not bothered at all by the accusations against him. "Make him say he's sorry, Mommy!"

"Now I can't make him do something he hasn't admitted yet, Lydia dear," her mother said coolly, looking to the boy with sincerity, yet remained firm. "Alexander, did you say those mean things about Hippo?"

To her surprise, he nodded, not with enthusiasm, but just out of pure honesty. He wasn't a bad child, not getting into trouble frequently like her sons, but he was a different type of boy, looking for the strangest sorts of trouble. Perhaps he was just doing it to get attention?

"Well then I suggest you best apologize to Hippo and then to Lydia for what you've said," the gentle woman told him, still smiling as always.

Alexander almost glared down at the large lump of pale fur and skin at his feet, the canine panting wildly in expectation of what was coming. He almost regretted this… "I'm sorry, Hippo. You're not fat, you just eat too much of the same thing," he said, trying to feign sincerity when he looked up at the young girl awaiting her apology as well. This was his favorite part. "I'm sorry for what I said, Lydia. Forgive me?"

When the boy smiled the smile he rarely gave, Lydia turned a bit shy and began to sway a bit, her old and faded red skirt swishing back and forth as her weight shifted. Her mother, watching the scene unfold now knew what the boy was up to – since this had happened many times before, and it had nearly the same result each time, she understood that it was all part of Alexander's plan.

Grinning, she looked to Lydia, "Now dear, show him that you do forgive him."

Lydia's cheeks turned a bit red as she nodded then turned to peck Alexander's cheek with a giggle. Though it was all part of his plan from the beginning, he still felt light-headed and had to give his head a quick shake to keep himself from falling over.

"All right, now that that's over, you can go play. Off with you, off with you!" Lydia's mother said, shuffling them off to run back into the fields before supper time. As the two children obeyed and darted off down the dirt road again to their favorite play place, Hippo struggling to keep up, the woman sighed and turned her attention back to hanging the laundry on the line. With a smile on her face, she snatched up another shirt to hang up, all the while reminiscing of the games she used to play as a little girl.

The same games her daughter and her first love were playing now.

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A/N: So was that worth the long wait, SxL fans? I sure hope so, because I may continue to be slow for a while. If you guys liked this, leave a review. If you didn't and just wanna flame, please don't. I hurt enough, k? Thanks for your time, all! Always a pleasure to entertain you!

_47th Light_


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